


October prompts: Branding

by theonetruenorth



Series: October writing prompts 2020 [14]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Introspective Corvo, M/M, No Dialogue, October prompts 2020, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27069292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetruenorth/pseuds/theonetruenorth
Summary: Corvo wondered how many people had actuallybeenin the Void, hadseenortalkedto the Outsider, to claim that he was the source of all evil.Because what Corvo felt every time he used his mark? It was an entirely different thing.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored)
Series: October writing prompts 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948783
Kudos: 59





	October prompts: Branding

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read.

The Abbey always claimed that the Outsider’s magic was a twisted, dark thing, meant only for corrupting the immortal soul and leading it to damnation. All the books that Corvo had ever read about the topic supported that claim, painting the image of the Void as a place of eternal suffering from which there was no rescue.

And maybe it was true. Maybe it was all that, for some people. Corvo wondered how many of them had actually _been_ in the Void, had _seen_ or _talked_ to the Outsider, to claim that he was the source of all evil.

Because what Corvo felt every time he used his mark? It was an entirely different thing.

It _was_ a dangerous feeling, yes. Too much power almost always rots people from the inside, giving them a false sense of being untouchable. It’s what Corvo experienced each time he pulled from the emptiness of the Void and felt the Outsider’s magic fill him instead. It was… warm. Reassuring. Completely unlike what he expected from a divine being of cold, dead seas where only cold, dead things linger.

Receiving the brand hurt, more than anything he had ever felt in his life. It felt as if something tried to dig its claws into his very soul, teeth clamping against his vulnerable core, anchoring itself deep inside. It grinned from within, fangs sharp and deadly, as if it mocked him for being unable to ever root it out. In that sense it truly felt like a pinnacle of corruption, like all those things the Abbey warned him about and which he had failed to resist.

But as soon as it was done, the uneasiness was replaced by something calm, quiet, like a soft lapping of ocean’s waves against a sandy shore. There was a _presence_ with him now, an almost-tangible feeling of someone standing by his side wherever he went. The feeling of eyes observing him from the shadows, which should have made him uncomfortable. But somehow, _somehow_ , it did not. Instead he was grateful for the familiarity, for the phantom touch of chilled fingers against the nape of his neck every time he did something unexpected, something that would surprise the god which protected him. It felt like a reward, that ghostly touch. A reward for keeping things interesting.

Many, many years later, standing face to face with a god whose eyes were no longer ink-black, it still felt the same. When the Outsider touched his hand, when he pressed his lips against the mark, Corvo couldn’t feel anything other than the divine.


End file.
